Amazingly, Jack and I secured our third win on the Fairplay Burro Days Pack Burro Racing World Championship course. It was our fastest time on the 29 mile course, and probably the hardest fought victory we have had. The event reminds me how lucky I am to be able to do these sort of activities, the lovely people I have around me, and that I live an incredible life.
The weekend started with some easy time in Fairplay. I ran no more than 3 miles on Saturday, but I spent a fair amount of time (starting Friday night) getting burros watered and fed, messing with saddles under Brad’s direction, and of course catching up on my s’more allotment.
Sunday is always a long day. I woke up early (5:30) to get the coffee going and some breakfast in me. I felt like crap. My stomach was rather disagreeable, I felt tight and low level soreness all around and my right hammy was barking a bit. It had been for a couple of days. I had tried to baby it but I could tell it would be a nuisance in the race today.
The long day continued by getting down to Front Street in Fairplay and starting to handle burros, people and packs. There is weigh in, saddling up, getting ropes, coaching up new timers, catching up with people you have not seen in a year, and trying not to think too much about the fact that you are about to do something rather ridiculous – that is run for 29 miles with an animal that is larger than you, stronger than you, up to a 13000 foot pass and back when they really rather not.
This year was different in that TZ had elected to also do the 15 mile course. I was worried about her. I think for most folks who read this blog, such an event would seem easy, but to most people doing this sort of thing exceeds the amount of exercise they get in a month (or even more). We wanted to be assured she was set with her burro (Ranger) as well.
Tracy just after the start with Ranger, pic by C. Schroeder
Suddenly it was 10:25 and so we wandered up to the start line and wished each other luck with a kiss. I kept repeating to myself that the purpose of the day was to enjoy the day and if things played out well, then I would open the door that opportunity was knocking on. If it didn’t, I would keep my spirit up and be thankful for the chances I have had and the support I get from people.
I weaved with Jack up to the front and saw a few familiar faces, including Hal who was running with Alberta. At the last second, Justin and Yukon Jack, who I pinned as pre race favorites came crashing in. Yukon is an “intact” male. Jack, as in the burro I was racing with, is gelded. Intact males in the burro world are … well animated, and often looking to demonstrate dominance over other burros and unfortunately their handlers. Justin has really built a rapport with Yukon but with 65+ other burros at the line, including a mare who was coming into heat, he was getting a full body workout trying to keep him behind the start line without kicking off the heads of other burros or racers.
I was chatting aimlessly with some of the folks around me when I heard “two minutes to race start” out of the loud speaker from the Hand Hotel. It seemed like 20 seconds later when the ridiculously loud shot gun blasted. I was not the only one that seemed surprised and we started north towards the gates of South Park City. I could see immediately that Justin and Yukon were bolting out hard with Dave Carner and Ellroy on their heels.
Thankfully the decision to not drop down out of the museum city into the river below it was made. Instead, like we have for the last two years before this, we climbed out of the city and up to Route 9. This allows for a safer spread of the racers and avoids the ankle breaking drop into the river. Once up on the road, I guessed I was in about 15th place and could see Justin continuing to get farther out – probably already 75 yards 2 minutes into this race. I had to remind myself that this sort of ground behind the leaders was no big deal and something Jack and I had dealt with before. I also imagined at that point that Justin could just outright run away from this field outright because he was simply crushing most of the field. The only folks that seemed to be near him were short course runners.
After a bit we got back on the grass adjacent to Rte 9, but ended up on the wrong side of a fence. A good deal of the front of the field took a minor wrong turn that put us probably 100 yards long on the course, but it was easily corrected. I did a quick count and saw I was in 10th.
At this point, maybe a mile into the race I took stock of how I felt. It was bad. I realized how shot my legs felt and the right hammy was letting me know that this was going to be a long day. I was breathing pretty hard and even though the hottest of the sun had disappeared behind the clouds, I was sweating well already. These thoughts started to swell a bit and I decided I just needed to think about something else before they took root for something greater than what it was.
Through the grass and back paths on the way out to the power station, we moved up. The pace felt a bit quicker than it what it should feel at this point, but not too hot. Justin and Yukon missed a turn flag so we gained some ground. We shouted over to him and he got back to us quickly, and took the lead again. As we edged up to the power station (almost five miles on the nose), I found myself just behind Justin and Yukon.
I was surprised by how easy Justin and Yukon seemed to be jogging. He even told me that he was jogging. I felt like I was doing more than jogging and that if he maintained this effort / pace, I’d be far behind by the time we hit the higher climbs. We got to the power station in 42:30. That does not seem fast, but it was not particularly slow going through the crud we had worked through.
Suddenly, it was just me and Justin. I looked back after about a minute climbing out of the station and I could see no one. And this is how it would be for the next 19 miles, or until we got back to the power station.
We got to the 7.5 mile aid station, which is also the turn around for the short course. I looked back and no body was in sight. And we pressed on. Just past this station is where the climbing starts. It is not a monster climb, and all told the vertical on the day is maybe 3500 feet. But there are a few sections that have a bite. I noticed for the first time as we hit these Justin would give me a bit of a reprieve on the pace. I found this to be very welcomed but at the same time I could not help and wonder if we’d suddenly get eaten up by chasers behind us. We fell into a steady trot with Justin running at Yukon’s nose, leading him slightly and Jack just behind Yukon and me just behind Jack.
Occasionally Jack would slip up to Yukon’s right and I could see that Yukon wanted none of this – and he would cut him off. On other occasion, I could see that Jack would start up on the left and Yukon would allow that, but once Jack got a bit ahead of Yukon – he’d stop dead in his tracks. This seemed to be very reminiscent of 2013 when Hal and Full Tilt Boogie, and Jack and I did this sort of thing all day. We exchanged the lead probably a 100 times in that race with Hal and Boogie taking the win in town by a length. It was very early for me to predict what the finish would look like but with the separation that Justin, Yukon, Jack and I had, it seemed we could be looking at a in town finish again.
Now, in town finishes with multiple burro teams are damn exciting for the crowds. It is usually a nose to nose affair with some burro team making a slight mistake that costs them the win. For Jack and I in 2013, we veered into the crowd ever so slightly and that cost us the race. And so while the crowds might love these sort of finishes, I was not looking forward to contemplating how many ways a runner a dozen years my junior with an intact male that was undoubtedly faster than my gelding was going to beat us after sharing the road and trail for 28.9 miles.
We climbed up to the “Y” or the split in the Mosquito Pass road. On the climb up, we head to the left (and later come down from the right) as this brings us to American Flats. This is approximately 10 miles. We got here in 87 minutes. I recall Hal telling me in past years that anything under 90 was a good time. It was only four miles or so to the pass. Hypothetically if we could get there in an hour, we might have a chance at running sub 5 on the course. Justin and I had talked about this before the race and I told him I thought if we had any shot at that it would mean we really push this next section. It is steep, rocky, high or mountain meadow. It is runable for folks trained on it, but the burros seem to want to have nothing to do with running it.
And so we fell into a walk. It started to rain and we agreed to a stop to put our shells on. I looked back along the long stretches of American Flats and I could see no pursuers. In fact the only traffic we saw was the occasional ATV or dirt bike.
I knew there was no way I’d be able to push Jack past Yukon on this for any sort of significant gap. I actually tested this out a bit on occasion and Jack would go sideways to eat some weeds and wait for Yukon. So I was content to follow Justin and Yukon up. Once we hit the meadow, I took the lead getting to far end of the rope on Jack pulling on him to get up. It was slow going. Justin and Yukon edged ahead as we entered the last rocky stretched but when Yukon balked at one point, I edged Jack around. I figured we could make a go for the first ass to the pass award.
As we climbed up the last stretched I was pleased to see Bob Sweeney who had run up to Mosquito. As we hit the road off the trail, I got Jack to trot consistently to get a bit of a gap on Yukon and Justin so that we tagged the Mosquito Pass sign first. I took some water and thanked the volunteers up there for their help. We had reached the summit in 2:55 – meaning we took more time to get that last four miles as we had the first 10! Any shot of breaking five had slipped out the window unless we crushed the last 15 miles.
As expected, Justin started to make the move down. I wondered immediately if this is where the race would essentially end for us because if they started flying down the hill at break neck speed I was doubtful we’d keep up. But neither burro seemed to have a lot of appetite for running down this 2.7 mile stretch. That section of road is rocky, rutted, loose in places and the burros seem content to take it cautiously. I think this is a bit maddening to the humans as we want to run down after the long walk up, and we want to get to thicker air. The burros were okay with a casual pace down. I had seen this with Hal in past years and I knew that we had about a dozen miles of running at the bottom of this part of the hill. And in fact, when I had broken away from Hal, it was never on this section. I had hoped I could do something similar with Justin and Yukon but it seemed unlikely as Jack appeared to be relatively deferent to Yukon.
It continued to rain, but it never did lightning. Once we hit the bridge bend, the road started to grade a bit better and the burros took to an 8-9 minute pace (occasionally the low seven but not so much). Again, I took stock of where my body was and I realized that thinking I had 17 miles in my legs and a dozen to go was not a good set of thoughts to have. My feet were hurting, my hammy was barking, and we were easily 90 minutes out from the finish. A lot could happen. On the downs, Jack and I would get a few feet ahead of Justin and Yukon, but we could never seem to really shake them. I was increasingly expecting an in town finish, and starting to strategize how we could outgun this monster burro and his fast running handler.
It is at times like this that I find my head wanting to really drive Jack. But whenever I do that, I quickly realize that he is either going to simply resist that and go into the trees to the sides or he will just look at me essentially stating “hey man, this is what we are doing – this thing don’t go no faster, comprende?”
Justin and I were not killing each other yet, but the screws were starting to turn a little bit. It was clear we were no longer looking to run away from those in pursuit, but we were both trying to either break away from the other or stick to them. And this is how we ran all the way down the Mosquito Pass Road.
We came across a woman with a burro above Park City (the small settlement on the Mosquito Pass Road). I guessed she was a short course runner but Justin correctly pointed out she was well past the turn around for that. As we passed her I asked if she was okay. At the same moment she threw her lead rope up and away and moaned in frustration “he is either dragging me or I am dragging him.” I could see tears welling in her eyes and her burro started to run free. Justin made the quick verbal and said “tie it up!” I agreed and we stopped together (yet another repeat of something that happened in 2013 with Hal). I tied the burro to a power pole and told her to either stay put or to walk to the next aid station. I told her we’d also have help radio’d in to get her and the burro out of there. She took this in but seemed not much more happy about it. And Justin and I got going again (the tied burro was pissed it could not come with us).
I kept trying to get a bit of distance between Justin, Yukon and Jack and myself but it seemed like this was an unreachable goal. I recognized that Jack and I were not running that fast – maybe 8:30 pace, where as in 2012 we came down the hill with a series of sub 7s. I told Justin that I thought he and Yukon could run away from us and Justin disagreed. While Yukon was content to lead on most of the way up, he seemed happy to play second fiddle to Jack on the way down. In fact when Justin tried to get him to roll a bit faster, Yukon would buck and let Justin know there would be none of that.
We reached the power station – now 24 miles into the course (4:37 total time, so about 1:40 to get from the Pass down that 11 miles). I had about 5-10 feet on Justin. The aid station folks offered us water there and I heard Justin behind me ask for them to uncap it. I decided on a whim to decline it and see if I could get a bit more real estate between us. And it worked. The five feet became about 15 yards.
Now I knew that this meant hardly anything. Any mistake by Jack or myself and Justin would be right there with Yukon but these are the games you play. You try to get that gap, and you fail. In fact I had failed for the prior hours but I kept trying. And suddenly, I think Jack had the nose for being done and knew that at the end of this trail was a big bale of hay and some rest for him – so he consistently plodded.
We came down Billy Carter Road about a mile later and I could see TZ and Ranger. I gave her some words of encouragement but just kept running past – as I could see Justin and Yukon maybe 10 seconds back. We dipped off the road onto the trail and Jack was solid as Sears – just busting a steady trot. I looked back after a minute. Nobody. And then another minute – nobody. And we ran scared. Actually Jack probably did not give a shit, but I knew one extended stop and the guys would be back on us.
But we never saw them for that next four miles. Apparently once we got away and out of site, Yukon was no longer motivated to keep us close. I started to think we might actually get this thing as we entered the rock quarry, but then you move so damn slow through the final reeds and that crazy climb out of the river that I suspected we’d be caught. After 24 miles of going step for step with Justin and Yukon, we managed to get away over the last five, but we did not know and ran scared almost to the finish. Finally we came into South Park City, enjoyed the small town march down Front Street and got another win.
It was the fastest that Jack and I had done on this course: 5:22 and we probably stopped for 2 minutes to help that lady out with her burro. This is certainly not the zippy times that folks used to post up there, but it was good enough for the day. Finishing ANY race first feels pretty awesome but to do it a few times, and to do it on a course in an event like this has very special meaning to me. This was probably the hardest one for me yet (win or not) given how I felt. I am very thankful for the opportunity and how it played out.
There are so many people to thank for that moment: my family, the Wann family, Bill Lee are the first that come to mind. Justin made that race. And the extended burro family who provide so much cheering and support: Curtis, Hal, Clarke, Tracy, Shelly, Richard, Jon, the Kuester family, the Pedretti family, the Doke family, David, and probably a handful or so others that my dimwit mind is forgetting.
And of course Jack. This amazing animal who I have this bond with. Someday we both won’t be here. I hope he gets something out of this moment too.
JZ and I went back and found TZ as she was finishing the course and we brought her in. Her knee had been popped but she looked great. I am so proud of her doing this insane event.
As of this moment, I am not sure what I will do about BV. I’d love to say I feel great and that I am going to go race it, but I am not feeling that great. I need to assure that I am uncompromised before heading into PPM – and right now I am not sure if racing BV is the right thing to assure that.
Thanks all for an amazing day.
